A Tidy Little Ontological Paradox
by ScooterTime
Summary: The importance of smell in triggering and generating memories... or a fix-it for where the Doctor got his Jelly Babies from after regenerating in the TV movie.


"Oh come now, you know fully well I'm right about this."

"Doctor? Are you and the TARDIS having a row again? She's making that sound like she doesn't want to land."

The Doctor sighed and leaned forward on the console. "Good morning, Charley. Yes, she's very unhappy with what I'm about to do."

"And what is that?"

"Oh, just create a tidy little ontological paradox, nothing much. In fact half of it has already happened, so I really don't know why she's complaining. She's been a bit cranky in general lately, come to think of it."

"Is that so? I hadn't noticed," said Charley sarcastically. "She's only moved my bedroom thirteen times this week, and once after I had already opened the door. I nearly walked straight into the pool."

The Doctor had to suppress a chuckle. "I'm sorry Charley, I really am. But hopefully after today she'll calm down and stop acting like a child once I get this over with."

Charley smiled, and leaned on the console next to the Doctor, looking up at him. "So what exactly is this paradox that needs fixing up, then? Is there alien trickery or a plot to take over the world involved?"

"Yes, and no. At least as far as I'm aware. And the only trickery involved is of the Time Lord variety, which I need to help along just a bit. Though I'm afraid the Web of Time is pretty delicate at this particular juncture, so I'm going to have to ask you to stay on board the TARDIS. I won't be long."

Charley looked disappointed, but nodded as the Doctor smiled and put a hand on her shoulder. "Alright."

The machine in question finally produced the familiar groaning sound indicating a successful landing. The lights in the console room dimmed, as did the lights on the console itself, the ship continuing to indicate her disapproval. The Doctor headed for the doors, absentmindedly checking one of his pockets as he did so.

"Oh, and Charley?"

"Yes, Doctor?"

"Do you remember the fast-return switch? Don't hesitate to use it if the TARDIS tries to leave. This is one place that I really cannot afford to be stuck in at this particular time."

"Right. So where and when are we, then?"

"San Francisco, December 31st, 1999."

Without waiting for a response, the Doctor flashed a false grin back at Charley, and left the TARDIS. 

* * *

Unless he was actually in his own presence, it was always an unnerving feeling, crossing his own timeline. It left an unpleasant aftertaste at the back of his mind that took a while to get rid of. In this instance it was especially unsettling with the knowledge of what state his younger self was in at this exact moment. The Doctor felt unoriented, and it had nothing to do with the time or space that surrounded him.

Despite her protests, the TARDIS had indeed taken him exactly where and when he wanted. It was approximately 1:15 in the morning. The first time he came here, he was dead. The Doctor shuddered for a moment, then got his bearings. He only had one simple task to fulfill, and then he could leave this wretched place full of unpleasant disjointed memories and death.

The TARDIS had landed in the last room he actually wanted to be in, although he couldn't blame her. There was more space in here than in where he'd been aiming for, and the only possible witness to his arrival was passed out cold on the floor across from a beaten steel door knocked off its hinges. The Doctor felt a wave of pity for the young man. He closed his eyes, let out a long slow breath, and headed across to the locker room.

Due to his memory being completely discombobulated at the time, the Doctor had no solid recollection of which locker he was looking for. No matter, as he did at least know he had several hours before his previous self would be in this room. He opened each locker as quietly as he could, searching for what was to be the coat he'd adopted as his current suit of armor. About halfway down the row, he finally found what he was looking for.

"_WHO… AM… I__‽_"

The Doctor froze.

Memories came rushing back to him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown him, squeezing his eyes shut tight. The pain, the confusion, the sheer _terror_ of what he'd experienced on this night the first time around. It was no wonder it had taken him so long to find himself after that regeneration. He'd never felt so lost and afraid in all of his lives. It was extremely tempting to do something foolish and alter it. His earlier self was projecting so much fear, he could physically feel it from across the building. It was nearly enough to make him sick.

He had to forcefully shake himself out of the moment.

Reaching inside his inner coat pocket, the Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver, and a small paper bag.

"Let's see… I believe I have it at setting 42 for trans-dimensional pockets," he muttered to himself. Aimed at the trousers hanging in the locker, the sonic worked its magic. "Perfect," said the Doctor, checking his work. "Now for a little olfactory memory trigger and clever diversion tactic all rolled up into one." He began to tuck the small paper bag into one of the newly bigger-on-the-inside pockets, then hesitated.

He popped a Jelly Baby into his mouth.

"That should do it." 

* * *

"Did the TARDIS give you any trouble?"

"Not at all, once I had a few words with her."

"Good."

"Are you alright, Doctor? You're smiling, but you look positively dreadful." Charley assumed a stance that said she was concerned enough not to be put off by a thin excuse.

The Doctor dropped his face slightly. "I'm fine, Charley. Just some very unpleasant memories in this place, that's all. But there's nothing to worry about now. This is one paradox that eventually works out for the better. Otherwise, I wouldn't even be here. You certainly wouldn't, either."

Charley didn't look completely convinced, but she didn't push further. Instead she simply hugged the Doctor, who looked like he could more than use it. "Then I'm glad."

Holding her tight for a few moments, the Doctor felt instantly better. He pulled back and offered up a genuine smile this time.

"Now we've got a very important mission for the rest of the day, Charley. The TARDIS is completely out of Jelly Babies, and that's simply unacceptable."


End file.
